He was waiting for me in the cafe, lounging back in his chair with a cigarette held aloft. I wouldn't have been surprised to see blue plumes rising in curlicues around his head. Some interviews are excruciating, but not his one. I waltzed five minutes late into the cafe and there he was lounging back in his chair with a cigarette held aloft. Blue plumes rose in curlicues around his head and I thought "Ah now. Here is a frontman".
I have the ability to distinguish a frontman or woman from an ordinary member of the general public with less than a casual split-second glance. What I want to know is why. How is it possible that I can tell, just by looking at someone, whether or not they sometimes stand on a stage and sing? I hope to uncover the answer to this question as I interview them one by one.
This afternoon I interviewed Jasper Clifford Smith from Warhorse. He was waiting for me in the cafe, lounging back in his chair with a cigarette held aloft. Blue smoke rose in plumes and curlicues. The question I did not ask him is '"What makes you so different from an ordinary member of the general population" but it was almost always on my mind. He did not remove his sunglasses, his shirt was casually unbuttoned one button too far down his chest. His jacket was the ordinary kind traditionally worn with a suit. None of these wardrobe issues shed light on the issue at hand.
I am endlessly fascinated by music and its makers. It is not necessary to insert an apostrophe into a possessive 'its'. Jasper Clifford Smtih spoke easily, leaning backwards or forwards as it suited his needs. He doesn't have an easy langour, he is more alert and present than langorous though he did, for the most part, appear to be at ease. He has a directness that lends itself to being interviewed. The cafe was dim and I did from time to wonder how it was possible to see through sunglasses. My new and miraculous mp3 recorder whirred silently on the table between us recording every word. I am not sure what to make of him, not yet. He answered each question with clear and purposeful answers. He did not sway from talking about past problems or shy from strong and forceful opinion. I believe he possesses the art of at once holding some cards close while laying others face up on the table.
The hard part now lies ahead of me. The transcribing of the interview, the rendering of words into sense. The drafting and redrafting. Projects like this, where I can pursue the answer to my own mysterious questions while I do the larger work of something else is the kind of reminder I need of just why it is that I continue to type.
I have the ability to distinguish a frontman or woman from an ordinary member of the general public with less than a casual split-second glance. What I want to know is why. How is it possible that I can tell, just by looking at someone, whether or not they sometimes stand on a stage and sing? I hope to uncover the answer to this question as I interview them one by one.
This afternoon I interviewed Jasper Clifford Smith from Warhorse. He was waiting for me in the cafe, lounging back in his chair with a cigarette held aloft. Blue smoke rose in plumes and curlicues. The question I did not ask him is '"What makes you so different from an ordinary member of the general population" but it was almost always on my mind. He did not remove his sunglasses, his shirt was casually unbuttoned one button too far down his chest. His jacket was the ordinary kind traditionally worn with a suit. None of these wardrobe issues shed light on the issue at hand.
I am endlessly fascinated by music and its makers. It is not necessary to insert an apostrophe into a possessive 'its'. Jasper Clifford Smtih spoke easily, leaning backwards or forwards as it suited his needs. He doesn't have an easy langour, he is more alert and present than langorous though he did, for the most part, appear to be at ease. He has a directness that lends itself to being interviewed. The cafe was dim and I did from time to wonder how it was possible to see through sunglasses. My new and miraculous mp3 recorder whirred silently on the table between us recording every word. I am not sure what to make of him, not yet. He answered each question with clear and purposeful answers. He did not sway from talking about past problems or shy from strong and forceful opinion. I believe he possesses the art of at once holding some cards close while laying others face up on the table.
The hard part now lies ahead of me. The transcribing of the interview, the rendering of words into sense. The drafting and redrafting. Projects like this, where I can pursue the answer to my own mysterious questions while I do the larger work of something else is the kind of reminder I need of just why it is that I continue to type.
Comments
did you interview anyone else for this thing??
hope ur well
jasper